Through the Frozen Heart
by YellowFlower99
Summary: In the penniless kingdom of Grirelia, the unknown Prince Hans appears with a quite unbelievable explanation. However, only the heir princess, Princess Greta finds his character peculiar, as her parents seem to be blinded by the prince's wealth. Greta's curiosity and apprehension are even more enhanced when Prince Hans discloses an unforseen offer which could change her whole life.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Dear Reader!**

**Welcome to my fanfiction :)**

**I hope you will like this first chapter, and maybe stay for the upcoming ones. I can assure you it is going to be way more than what the short summary suggests, so be prepared for a long journey ;)**

**Firstly, I would like to thank my near and far friends who remained my faithful readers, writing pals, fanart creaters, but most of all my greatest support :') Love you guys!**

**Secondly, I would like to clarify a few things.**

**1\. This story will be based on only the first movie. EDIT: now as I have seen Frozen 2, I can tell it has not really affected my story, so that's good :D**

**2\. Edit about marking text and thoughts: Do you think it could work if I signed spoken words like "text" and thoughts like 'text'?**

**Well, that's it! Thank you so much for checking out my chapter!**

**Happy reading!**

_**YellowFlower99**_

**Ps: I am searching for a native English beta**

* * *

**Chapter 1.**

**-Eerie fiend-**

Once upon a time, in the days of old, there was a small kingdom. It was a child of war and siblings' discordance. After bloodshed, cruelty and an eventual chartered agreement, the victor of this area had christened the territory Grirelia. In the old languages this meant something like: The Land of King Leon. With the same logic the neighbouring realm remnants were named after this King Leon's brothers Griredan, Grirebaer and Grirema.

Centuries past with several territorial and regal realignments, the quondam kinship was present only in the reigning monarchs' hidden, dusty drawers. Abundance and dearth alternated for diverse periods of time, until the early eighteenth century, the once wealthiest domain, Grirelia had to deal with the unceasing state of poverty. Unlike Griredan which rose from the four first, relative kingdoms.

Such an unfortunate situation was the heir princess, Luisa born into in the second half of the 18th century. Enthroned after her father's tragic death, she and her young husband, Harold had to continue a decade-lasting war and avenge the murder of the former king. This they managed to accomplish; but at what cost?

The struggling triumph depleted the kingdom, or more likely the choices of the new, stubborn queen. Yes, only the queen. Not by chance was just Luisa nicknamed the Cold Hearted after the war. Many complaints pealed about her decisions, but none about the king's. Perhaps they did not exist at all.

Or they were silenced.

Hopes of this Cold Heart's warming up resounded when the future arrival of a late coming child was announced.

And a daughter was born…

* * *

In the tiniest, most hidden corner of the royal stable lay low a…

Well, not a bitsy mouse, no.

But a princess! Hunched up against the wooden wall she held a rather aged book against her lap. Those green eyes of hers engorged the pages line by line not even blinking at all the hay stuck onto her skirt.

What her stall neighbour, Epona the horse thought of the intruder? She did not really have any problem with visits of such manner, as these hidings usually came with appealing treats for horses. Ah and who could forget the chin scratches!

The princess really did reach up to the curious head leaning above her before turning a page.

Then, THUD.

The stable door was pushed open.

It must have been Sebastian, the stable boy herding in the shod horses and out the next ones to the blacksmith. The princess chuckled when she heard the unmistakeable shout.

"Aeeye girls, a little faster 'ere!"

Undoubtedly, it was him.

"Good horse, there. Fancy stop nippin' y'self!" the boy let out a quick howl, but in the next second he was whistling as he shut the stalls.

For a fifteen-year-old common, young lad it was the greatest honour to serve in the royal stables, even if it meant no difference to the manure on his trousers. He was rather tall for his age, nonetheless, his face was still as boyish as four years ago.

Sebastian blithely walked to the hind stalls, close enough to glimpse the blonde head at the regular box.

"Wonde'ful day, Your 'ighness, Princess Greta!" he grinned and leaned onto the wooden stall-door.

"Good day to you too Seb!" Greta giggled and hid a hay into her book appointing it to the post of a bookmark.

The sound of the snappy boy's voice lured out even Epona's examining nose.

" 'Mind if I steal this lass for a shoe-change?" he smirked putting and arm around the horses neck.

"Do as you wish, if you don't _mind_ me staying here a bit more." the princess smiled and reached back to her book.

"Well _I _most certainly wouldn't mind, Your Majesty…" He hummed playing with the lock of Epona's stall-door. ,,… but I'm not sure about all t' ward searching fo' the Princess."

"For me?" Greta raised an eyebrow and put her book down once more.

"Aye…" the boy nodded and grabbed the horse's rein.

"For what reason?" she jumped up and clicked the box' lock right open.

"No idea, You'd better ask 'em Yourself." Sebastian shrugged back with an unknowing pout before leading out the faithful mare.

* * *

Supposedly not many of us have encountered the feeling of being a wanted criminal. Even though our Princess Greta had not stolen anything, nor killed anyone she spotted at least five guards searching for her near some bushes, further in the garden.

Only the hounds were missing.

'Did I miss a tea party with the bunnies?' she thought as a guard peeked under the shrubs.

That's all bunkum! Obviously the princess had been having her "tea" with the horses this time.

After quietly closing the stable's door behind herself she crawled to the back of the building, voicelessly and unseen. In a brief moment she was already running towards the palace in the gracious cloaking of different constructions.

Why, you may wonder. She did not do anything wrong!

Indeed, yet growing up with Queen Luisa as one's mother would have accustomed anyone to such tactics. But what did she have to do with this all? That's easy to guess.

All sorts of guards leaving no stone unturned to find their crown princess could have meant only one thing: for some reason, the inpatient queen wanted her daughter to be present. The number of guards simply increases with the urgency. If Greta had to be honest, in her opinion, the best way to handle these situations was to return like no one was searching for her. At least this way Luisa never had the time to put together a decent, harsh scolding between the guard's report and her daughter's arrival.

An impromptu is much livelier anyways.

Something curious must have really been happening in the royal palace of Grirelia. At the gate three maids were carrying out an oversized carpet and another three dragged in the change, which they usually rolled out for special occasions. From this bustle not even a messy haired and hay-sprinkled princess would have marked out, as Greta supposed, and tried to slip in between two florists, who lugged one-one large pot of lilies. Nevertheless, she earned some confused sneers from the post guards.

Entering the hall that led to the throne room the princess could already hear her mother's commands.

"Dust it down!

My throne needs to be polished already!"

Well, this might not be the best time to arrive, but at that point there was no turning back. When Greta shyly opened in, she saw the queen waltzing between maids and different servants who arranged the fancy carpet and the flowers to their places.

Willy-nilly, the princess approached the group without making a sound. She could not help but wonder at the happenings with her book pressed to her chest.

"Everything needs to be in order for the prince's visit!" Queen Luisa clanged with her voice echoing between the huge walls.

"What prince?" suddenly the absentminded princess asked totally forgetting about her "disappearance".

At this the old queen turned back with a quite unfriendly expression and her hands on her hips.

"And where on Earth have you been, if I may ask, Greta!" she burst out.

With the two woman now looking eye to eye only someone with bad perceptibility could have missed the fascinating resemblance. Soft, akin features hardened with in the first case age, in the other with a grumpy expression. Even the same blonde hair would have they shared, if it had not been to the mother's more and more grey strands.

"I was just reading in the…" Greta hardly swayed her book when her mother interrupted her with an annoyed exclamation.

"Where? Of course the stables again!" the woman grabbed her daughter's book in the air "Look at you! You are dirty, inordinate and stinky! Who would believe you are the princess here?!" and listed her accusations like a merciless judge.

"Must you always do these chidings so openly?" the princess gritted her teeth while tearing her book back.

"I would rather just not have the need to chide you all the time, young lady." Luisa retorted.

Mother and daughter exchanged a moment of silence with piercing glares spiked at each other. Even the startled maids' blinks could have been heard.

"What prince were you talking about?" Greta growled up all of sudden lowering the book in her hand.

"Well, daughter, you would know if you had not gone away to dance with a haystack…" the queen turned away to examine the state of preparations.

As a natural response the girl rolled her eyes.

To her mother's surprise, instead of working, the subjects were sheepishly loitering a few metres away from the two royals. "You all do already what I have ordered!" she let out a trenchant cry, then with no choice available they continued their diligent work.

Thereafter Queen Luisa turned back contentedly. "We are going to be visited by a royal guest from the far North-West. He is one of the princes of the Southern Isles." she announced with a sigh.

"They are North-West from us, yet they still call themselves Southern?" the younger lady wondered giggling into her question.

"That's their kingdom's name." Luisa glared, "They are very wealthy though, you see we have to look our best!" then turning back to her daughter she clapped. Suddenly, her excessively organiser hands reached up with the objective of brushing back Greta's overhanging tufts. But the girl leaned out of her mother's touch and attempted to fix her hair herself.

"When is he coming anyways?" she inquired with a rather self-respecting face.

"In any minute!" exclaimed her mother as she proudly admired the newly adorned throne room.

"Excuse me?" the princess looked at her with questioning eyes.

"If I was informed correctly, his ship is arriving to the dock right now." Queen Luisa nodded. "If I were you I would go up and clean myself as quick as a thought. Go and wear your best dress with your best jewels!" she commanded and waved Greta to leave.

* * *

An old, grey haired, probably overfed royal scion with a vast moustache.

Beyond doubt.

But why Grirelia?

This little question was the most prominent thing bugging Princess Greta's mind through the whole process of bathing and dressing.

As she lay in a whole tub of warm bubbles her thoughts raced between all the possibilities of why her kingdom could have been someone's destination. Yet however hard she tried to be optimistic, she came to the conclusion that this man was either a fool or he had just run away.

Grirelia had no enticing spectacles, the mountains were bleak, it did not hold anything special in terms of culinary arts, and not even a single renowned person had lived there to have a statue to see.

Everything was prosy, empty, and penurious. Briefly, the place only a fool would be in the humour to visit. Yes, a fool or an escapist.

After climbing out of the bath-water the princess stood lightly clothed, in petticoat and in a semi-fastened corset, which her old maid, the kind Ida was to finish.

"Which dress do You wish to wear, Darling?" the lady asked with a calm, kind smile when she one last time pulled onto the strings.

"The red beaded one please." Greta replied with a monotonous voice, probably still lost in her suppositions about the unknown visitor.

Within a second, from the wood of various hanged gowns indeed appeared back the servant with the ordered, ruby dress folded in her hands.

"Good choice, Your Majesty. This colour suits you well." Ida smiled and pulled the large gown over princess' head.

'There has to be a sensible explanation.' the girl speculated slipping her arms into the sleeves. As she gazed towards the draped windows a quite reasonable thought crossed her mind.

'What if there is a third category?'

"Ida please?" she jumped back to the reality.

"Yes, Princess?" the maid smiled up while she fastened the hidden button's on Greta's flowery dress.

"Don't you know whether my father had acquaintance in the Southern Isles? I mean, some time long ago." Greta puckered her brow.

This had to be the reason, he must be the king's friend. A friend never seen, just in the war, or from his youth.

Why else would have he come here?

No visitor came to Grirelia since the last ball, which was so long ago even the queen did not dare to admit.

"The Southern Isles? Unfortunately I don't remember such acquaintance." Ida hummed stroking the gown's laces to their place.

'Then why did he travel here?'

"Are you sure?" the princess frowned.

"I suppose I am, Your Highness." the maid grimaced back, "I am sorry I could not help you." and lovingly touched Greta's arm.

"It's all right." she wagged and walked to her vanity.

On the wooden piece of furniture there lay some tiny vials of perfume, a book to be read, a diary and a casket. This held the princess' jewels: among the other adornments, her old pearl necklace with matching earrings, which she decided to wear this time.

'It seems like I have to see you myself, You Prince of the Southern Isles…' she decided as she put in an earring.

* * *

Soughs of gown and taps of heels resounded at the great stairway. A soft hand caressed all along the railing step by step. This whole fancy parade seemed way too extraneous in the dark lit, generally aged surroundings. But who was Greta to tell the queen that a few pots of flowers and fine clothes would not mask the poorish atmosphere?

She was merely her daughter and heir after all.

Then let this mock-prosperity fool those who can be fooled.

After a brief hour spent crownless in the stables Princess Greta now wore her tiara atop her braids, which at her nape were pinned together into a bun.

The stairs lessened with every step she made, yet the secret's key seemed still too far away.

"Greta!" suddenly a calm, rare voice called up to the girl in the red dress from the hall opening to the stairs.

"Oh, Father!" she recoiled and stopped around midway to the bottom.

The man cleared his throat. "…Your mother sent me to find you." King Harold mumbled then in his fluster straightened his back.

Ah.

'Because otherwise you wouldn't talk to me, would you?'

"Well… I am coming." Greta blinked and rushed down on the stairway. "Is the prince already here?" she asked arriving beside her father.

"Mmhhm." he nodded and a stray sunshine jumped onto then away from his grey beard. "I suppose he will shortly wish to meet us." said Harold giving his daughter a long, unidentifiable mannered glance.

Greta eyed him with a questioning expression as the old king looked like he wanted to add something else. But when he just opened and closed his mouth without making a single sound, the princess decided to direct the conversation back from the unmade paths to formality.

"Then we shall hurry to the throne room." she sighed looking away from her father's eyes.

* * *

"Aah finally you are here!" Queen Luisa exclaimed stopping her obsessive walk in front of the three jewelled thrones centred at the back-wall of the chamber. "I thought you would never arrive." she took out a fan "But at least you are still in time." and started fanning away her flushes of heat.

All along the long side-walls guards stood gappy, with equal distances between themselves.

"Well I hurried, Mother. It would not be seemly to miss out such a meeting." the princess replied with a hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

Harold proceed to sit down to his throne, no surprise, without saying a word.

"Quite so! You look fairly presentable, I have to say." Luisa hummed looking her daughter up and down.

"Thank you!" she laughed and seated herself on the smaller throne beside her mother's.

Suddenly, after a faint knock the large doors of the throne room opened with a guard stepping in.

"You Majesties, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles wishes to enter and greet Your Highnesses!"

The moment of truth.

Luisa and Harold shared a brief glimpse, then the king gave allowance with a rusty voice:

"He may come in!"

From the dazzling light of afternoon's sunshine a form started to materialise. The princess could almost see the short, tubby man she had envisioned, but soon the grey hair turned into red, the belly shrank and a tall, broad figure appeared instead.

This prince walked with a proud, confident pace closer and closer to the wide eyed Greta.

It is hard to reconstruct one's images of a person when it appeared to have gone to pieces. This man was nowhere old, neither fat, and in place of a moustache he wore sideburns on his cheeks.

The only thing which stayed true to Greta's prior conceptions was the wealth clearly conveyed from his clothes: dark trousers, gloves on his hands for God knows why in such weather, a white shirt with maroon vest, and on the top of this all a cream coloured jacket with crimson adornments.

"I feel honoured to meet You, Your Royal Highnesses!" he greeted the family with a deep, courteous bow.

While Greta and Harold bowed back silently, Queen Luisa carolled a "The honour is ours!''.

"What brings You to our humble kingdom, Prince Hans?" She asked with the most sugary voice she could pressure out of herself.

'Yes, what brought you here?' The princess curiously leaned forward.

"I decided to have a little vacation, and see a place I have never been to, thus as my destination I chose this beautiful kingdom." Hans flashed a charming smile "Truthfully, I have to admit, even though I still have many things to see, Your royal garden is quite unrivalled." and after his flatters he glanced at Greta.

Unrivalled?

'What on Earth are you talking about?' she showed to Hans a sincerely questioning sneer.

Versailles yes, Isola Bella of course, even a simple lavender field could have been considered matchless in the terms of beauty. But this royal gardens, the outdoors of Grirelia's palace were everything but pretty.

"Ah You are too kind, Prince, thank you." the queen let out a blushy chuckle.

Turning his head back to Luisa the prince bowed "I spoke genuinely.".

At this simple sentence the princess could not help but wince. 'Who would say this?' she wondered and decided to question even the faint freckles on the prince's face.

"While I am spending my time here may I ask for Your generous hospitality and stay in Your palace?" he asked motioning around with one of his gloved hands.

'Good Lord, why?'

"Of course." Queen Luisa answered quickly leaving no chance for anyone to question the idea aloud.

Then she looked at her husband, who after a sigh proceeded to speak up:

"Have a room prepared for Prince Hans and bring his luggage there!" he ordered to a guard standing close to the thrones.

With a satisfied nod Luisa turned back to the mentioned prince. "Until Your chamber is being prepared, if You wish, my daughter, Princess Greta could walk You around. I am sure she would do it gladly." she suggested not even paying a blink to the newly appointed guide.

What?

Greta's hand on her throne's elbow-rest twitched. 'Do I, Mother? Really? Must I be the one to entertain Sir Prince of Liar Isles?' she fumed in her mind.

"It would be lovely, thank You, Princess." he gave her a cheesy, dashing look which only fed her anger.

Nonetheless, Greta nodded with her head held up like royalties ought to do: "You are very welcome.".

"There! You see, dear Prince, Greta is the best person one could choose to see the palace with! She knows every little corner like the back of her hand." the queen for once flattered her daughter too.

The mentioned best guide's lips bitterly puckered up to the corner 'Now you approve of my secret adventures, do you?'.

"Ah then it will be a great honour to be led by such a knowledgeable lady." Hans complimented with a strangely proud smile.

With the door's loud bang the guard who were ordered to prepare the chamber exited the throne room.

Queen Luisa put a hand behind Greta's back encouraging the girl to stand up with her. "You shall go anon as there is a lot to see and Prince Hans must be tired from the journey." she ordered as they indeed emerged from their thrones.

"Please Your Majesty, there's no need to rush, I have plenty of time." he chuckled stepping closer to the approaching mother and daughter. Even though he spoke to the queen, his eyes did not blink away from the princess.

'Eh plenty of time? How long are you planning on staying here?' Greta wondered.

Now standing in the close vicinity of their guest, the princess got a chance to study his features more thoroughly. A long, pointed nose, confident brows and jade eyes. He could have been any spoiled prince from any kingdom, yet behind his forced courtesies there was something curious about him.

Something which no matter how hard Greta tried, she could not grasp.

Something sickening…

Oh God.

Luisa's hand slipped down to get a tight hold at her daughter's left arm.

"Still, I hope You would join us for supper at seven in the dining hall, my daughter could escort You there too." she continued with a fairly unrefusable offer.

"Thank You, Your Highness, for the kind invitation." Hans expressed his gratitude by bowing down.

'What's going on?'

…

* * *

In the flow of events, after a last squeeze on her forearm Greta shortly found herself already out in the halls walking towards the gates. A sick feeling in her stomach wholly deluged her.

It would have been nice to hold onto something.

Yet a peak to the side reminded her of the source of her nausea. There pranced the prince so near beside her with his loathsome falsehood diffusing out of him.

No.

No way.

Not him.

Not ever!

The princess shook herself and proceeded to fulfil a new aim.

'I have no idea what is it about you, but I will find it out, no matter what it takes.' with her vow she secretly gave him a sneer, which in need could have been blamed at her retching.

"So which part have You seen of our gardens that you called unrivalled?" Greta suddenly asked. Her curiosity for the man's next lies was camouflaged into a slight smirk.

Hans glanced at her with the known slushy manner. "Oh only the two long flowerbeds along the path leading to the castle." he giggled. "But that was enough for me to know the other, bigger areas must be likewise beautiful. I have never seen such bold variety of flowers planted together. It's breath-taking." his amazed sigh probably meant to beguile out the princess' sympathy. It maybe did, but surely not this one's.

But for her strong-minded self-discipline, she would have immediately laughed into his face.

A bold variety of flowers.

Indeed.

Winter's left-over pansy, already sweltering tulips and for show a few cemetery flowers must really be a breath-taking view for a newcomer.

"I will inform the royal gardener of Your kind compliment, thank you." Greta grinned. "Although, I suppose Your Highness would prefer the backyard." she added biting her lips.

"Really?" his eyes sparkled with hope of dumb, unknown origin.

"Yes, it has just been sprinkled, so at least _they_ are not dying right now, moreover, we have some good, old trees too." nodded the princess sneaking in a little hint of the truth to the conversation.

"Er…"

_For the first time in forever_ the excessively sociable prince was just blinking like some frog in the too soon frozen lake.

'I got you out of joint, eh?'

At his bushed expression she could not help but allow herself a silent chuckle.

"Old trees, You say?" in the end, Hans managed to find his way back to his usual manners.

'Ah you don't play that easy, fine.'

"Exactly. They have been here fully grown even when I was a child." she acknowledged with a tiny sly smile left from her previous comment.

Arriving to the palace's gate he was back again with his flatters. "Ah then they are not really that old." the prince smirked, "Since You are so young, Princess." and a little twitch appeared in his eyebrows.

Greta ordered the guards standing nearby to open the door for them.

"Except I really am not." she laughed as he let her go out first. Turning back to face yet again the stepping out prince she greeted him with a challenging look on her face "But let's go to that garden, shall we?" .

A faded, cobble-path encompassed the palace of Grirelia from side to side. Here and there it branched to grant routes for those who wished to discover more of the so called matchless garden. Due to the building's base-territory it took a couple of minutes to reach the backyard. Perfectly enough time to admire the proffered view of gappy flowerbeds, some "hidden" rain-damped walls, yellowish lawn and somewhere further an old, rusty (?) arbour furnished for afternoon tea.

Perhaps there could have been a lovelier way to guide the rich prince to the back garden, but to accomplish the Greta's secret aim, there really was not a better choice.

After all, if the queen had not thought of rigging this area, like the inside of the palace, then it shall be considered to be a great instrument for driving out the hare from the shrubs with impunity.

"Do You deem it matches?" the princess volunteered to play the hungry wolf.

"What?" Hans raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh this part of the garden with the front, of course." she blinked motioning towards to the field on their left side.

In a brief moment of silence only their shoes' undisturbed taps followed their walk.

'Say it. It's disappointing. C'mon.

Pathetic…

Beggarly!'

"It's… yes it does, it is superlative." he breathed looking to the side as if he had just needed a second to admire and find the best word to describe the garden. "I assumed well about the comeliness." turning back to Greta the same alluring smile reappeared on the prince's face.

_Seriously?_

_Lies, lies and more lies._

'_Who the hell are you?'_

Except the princess was nowhere smiling, which for anyone of sound mind would have implied to vanish their foolish smile.

'Stop this…'

Her mind full of questions she missed to dodge a protruding cobble and with giddy steps she tried stop to gain back her balance.

This was the thing which finally wiped off Hans' annoying grin. With a reflex-like motion he reached to her arms with an attempt to save her from a possible fall.

But this princess did not need any saving, she tore herself away from his begloved touch and managed to end her stumbling with a few, loud steps.

'Fibber jerk.'

"Is everything alright, Princess?" he addressed her with a worried tone.

'With me? 'Course!'

"Did You get bumped?" he continued his concerns as Greta was still staring at the ground.

_"Who are you trying to fool?"_ her barely audible voice just heightened the prince's confusion.

"Pardon?"

"Who the hell are you trying to fool?!" she jerked up her head with an unmannered, not so princess-like yell.

Hans stared back at her with wide eyes.

"F-fool?" he blushed. "What are You-"

"You know very well what I am talking about! What are you doing here?" she stepped closer to him, her accusing glare piercing through his whole body.

"I'm-I'm on a vacation… A holiday, Princess, I have-"as a good defendant he even started to desperately stand for himself, but Greta raised up a finger to silence the already heard false explanation.

"No, no… You are not." she shook her head. "What is it you want so much that you are willing to flatter even a dilapidated garbage heap?" with bitter shamelessness she motioned at her own home.

Would Truth still hide, when Insincerity was unveiled?

"Speak _now_ if you dare." Greta mocked staring up to the tall man.

Prince Hans seemed to be at his wit's end. No wonder, forasmuch as complicated it is to build up and trustworthily stick to one's lies as it is difficult to reveal the truth hidden deep inside.

Or to compose new bungs…

"The truth, Princess?" he suddenly sighed hanging his head. "The truth is that…that I am in love." he bit his lips and shyly glanced into her eyes.

"Poor girl…" she girded at him, though she could not deny her curiosity.

"With _You_, Greta!" Hans confessed grabbing one of her hands.

Now with the two shades of green staring into each other a hopeful and a puzzled look met.

What?

"Explain please." she sneered and pulled her hand out of his.

"Ah, Princess…" he let out a dreamy sigh. "I have seen Your portrait by a painter, and Oh God, the moment I glanced at Your delicate features I was infatuated. I could not forget Your beautiful face, Your silky blonde hair, ooh and those eyes of Yours. I asked the artist whom had he painted, and when he told me I felt like I had to find You and see You in person." the prince got so much into raptures over disclosing his supposed emotions that Greta's eyebrows rose with every word added.

This can't have been true.

Even though his lovesick sighs she could not believe this love-at-first-sight story. Especially when the object of his passions was her.

"Do you expect me to believe that?" Hans' musing glimpses were reciprocated with a weary groan.

"I did not plan on sharing this with You just yet. I know it's hard to believe, but I do indeed fancy You, and I would fain get to know You." he continued ignoring the princess' comment just like some fly on the wall.

A derisive smile came onto Greta's face which fell into a similar, yet quiet laugh.

"You are still lying." she shook her head.

'_No one loves me.'_

"I'll give you one last chance to tell your true intentions or I will scream and say you harassed me and get you kicked out of _my_ kingdom before you could even blink two." hissed the princess building up a combative posture. Had she been taller she would have looked like an enraged boa looking over its next prey.

And then there was a creepy shift in Prince Hans' expression.

His eyes no longer glistened, his brows puckered and that silly smile had faded for good. He looked as though he had taken off a mask.

Greta's flesh creeped.

He did not seem like that toady man nor like the lover anymore.

Or was this just another mask?

"Do You really want to know?" he narrowed his eyes finally matching her look.

"Yeah, tell me!" she gulped, for the first time nodding somewhat uncertainly.

"As You wish, Princess." he slightly rolled his eyes "I want to get married." then admitted his real cause with a little shake in his shoulders.

"What?" she was blinking.

"Eh I thought this was not that unbelievable. I am thirty-one and still unwed. I merely thought it's high time I made an advantageous alliance of such kind." muttered Hans and looked to the side in annoyance.

"What advantage could a marriage with a spinster bring you?" the princess still doubted his words.

_Ah, little, foolish Greta…_

The corner of his mouth curved into a tiny smile.

"I suppose You are still younger than me, aren't You?" he turned back to her and as her silence implied a positive answer he widened his strange smile. "I thought we would understand each other better with the small age-gap. At least You are not a teenage slip of a girl anymore…"

"So is this a proposal?" she wondered with a hesitant voice.

"Oh pardon me." he cleared his throat and got down to one knee, "Will You, Princess Greta of Grirelia marry me?" and flashed another dashing grin. Another, but oh so much different. Filled with mockery yet way more genuine than his previous ones.

"Why…why would I marry you?" inquired the princess backing away from the close kneeling man.

"Perhaps to ensure an heir to Your throne? To have someone to discuss Your problems with?" suddenly an all-knowing smirk appeared under his nose "To finally get Your long ago wished throne?".

"How do you-" Greta's eyes widened in shock.

_Who is this man?_

All of a sudden the prince stood up.

"But you don't have to answer me just yet. I have _plenty of time_." he simpered. "Though I hope You know with my money even this "dilapidated garbage heap" could be saved.

Now if you don't mind, I am going to check my room." Hans brushed off the knelt creases from his trousers.

Swiftly looking up at the thunderstruck girl, the prince showed her a one last cunning smile:

_"See you at dinner, Princess!"_

And with that the red-haired, tall man turned his back on Princess Greta and proceeded to walk back into the castle on the known cobbled path.


	2. Chapter 1,5

**Hello guys!**

**Yes, this is alive, I am alive, and so sorry that I left this story for so long!**

**The thing is that I am really slow, plus school work can be a major hindrance in my getting down to write. However, I think this time I was the one who made things even harder. Well haha, I got an idea that the second chapter's intro should be in verse, because I thought in prose it would have been boring :P**

**So basically I made my task even harder and on purpose. This was a great challange, yet, to be honest, I actually enjoyed it, even though things were really hard to express sometimes in English Ballad from :P but now that I have finished it, I say that everyone who is primarily a prose writer should at least once trying telling their story in verse. It's a good practice throughout which you can encounter unique words.**

**I would like to dedicate this "little" ballad for my poetry teacher who gave me the form, my friends who stayed with me on this long journey of a sort of Dickens-like chapter-play growing of my poem, thesaurus, rhymezone and at last but not at least online dictionaries (hahaha).**

**Also THANK YOU for all of you who liked/followed/commented on the first chapter! I hope you will like the intro (please try to feel my iambs :P).**

**Stay safe whereever you are! :)**

**~YellowFlower99**

**(ps: "said" 'thought')**

**_Chapter 1.5_**

**_._**

The night still had a meal in store

Let roasts and wine be served,

A luxury prepared to show

A greater wealth than earned.

.

No blackened silver spoon and fork

Were left unshined with lies,

This all to please the eerie fiend

Who dressed in prince's guise.

.

"In love with you I swear I am

Please do believe me, Dear!"

Deceiving her he tried in vain,

She did not want him near.

.

A bodeful kind of proffer then

Had shocked the lady strong.

How could he know of mysteries

She never has disclosed.

.

Such groaning board has never been

Awaiting her like now,

"Sit down my dear, enjoy the night!"

The Queen bade with a bow.

.

Inviting chair and luring smells

Appeased Greta awhile,

But oh afront he stared at her-

A knowing wicked smile.

.

Old Luisa talked with tinkling charm-

Amuse Prince Hans, the grand.

Alas no one nearby descried

Poor Greta's trembling hand.

.

Perhaps he did not even hear

What Luisa tried to say,

His eyes observing, evil orbs

From Greta would not stray.

.

'Oh, who are you, Sir Liar Isles,

Say what is this veneer?

How can your gaze pierce through my soul

Precisely, like a spear?'

.

"Please Luisa dear, don't bother him,

He cannot eat like this."

The king's calm voice was loud for once,

Yet did not cause much bliss.

.

When noone's sure of what to say,

Unpleasant feelings rise.

Then try to utter something more,

Because that is what's wise!

.

" 'Suppose at home You're not held up

Or hampered while You meal..."

Still six wide eyes were fixing him,

Howbeit he would not speal.

.

Few blinks and then a covert frown,

The prince is to exclaim:

"Do not distress yourself, my King

At home it is the same.

.

Or maybe even worse, as in

Big families like mine

All kindreds have their tale to tell-

This way I used to dine."

.

His same, known, charming smile came back,

Now tinted with unease.

'Why can't you show what's in your heart?

Just stop the lying please!'

.

As if she'd gained her courage back

At Hans the princess stared,

But for his eyes then meeting hers

Too bad she'd not prepared.

.

Surprised to see her gaze at him,

Hans swiftly twitched his brows,

Then showed a flirty wink to her-

'Don't you want to espouse?'

.

"Could You, Prince Hans tell us a bit

Of Your just mentioned home?"

Queen Luisa chimed in their long stare.

Outside it was past gloam.

.

The prince put up a different smile

While lowering his eyes.

"The Isles are warm and homely place,

The fares are fine likewise.

.

But maybe You might have a chance

To see it once firsthand."

No matching guile has ever been

Beheld in any land.

.

A dinner with an eerie fiend

Would never be a thrill.

You can not know what's driving him

Delight or else ill will.

.

A blarney here, a rich smile there,

All times enclosed in tact,

Though no one grasps these gestures are

Not different than an act.

.

Thus Luisa jabbered even more

For Hans' greatest glee.

An easy task she's granting him:

No matter what, agree!

.

Nice supper, yes! Repeat it soon?

Sounds pleasing for a Dane!

Perchance peony in his suite?

He would accept them fain.

.

"But now let's make one more toast please,

Before we would retreat!

To honour our dear guest, Prince Hans,

It was a joy to meet!"

.

'Just honour him, if you wish, mum,

I will not have your gin!

You could decieve the king and queen

But I will not give in!

.

Do clink your glasses, but I won't!

A little trick will do...'

A quick sly sweep and then her knife

Was neatly out of view.

.

A few sharp clanks, "Ah, pardon me!"

And Greta dived downhill.

The gracious cloth provides a shield

To stay alone until...

.

Still if she hides she must discharge

The false excuse she formed.

'Can't stay for long, go find your knife

Or else you will be scorned!

.

It must be somewhere here, I'd swear,

How could it fall this far?

Not here, nor there, is this a trick?

But surely so bizarre.'

.

A brief sharp glint then caught her eye

She promptly turned that way.

So close the knife lay in a hand

As if shown on a tray.

.

"Is this what you are looking for?"

A whisper drew her peek

Up to the crouching prince's face

Which held an impish streak.

.

.

This was the dinner with Prince Hans

'Oh dear stairs fetch my feet

Fast up into my room to dream,

Let me forget that creep!'

.

The vacant halls were only lit

By dimly glowing lamps.

Her scuttling steps had marked the rug

Like tiny, frightened stamps.

.

She shut her creaking door in haste

With stealthy glimpses back.

Just making sure that no vile beast

Was lurking in the black.

.

Her shaking fingers reached to make

Some brightness in the room.

She wrung her hands while walking 'round

'Should I have him as groom?

.

Could I once learn to bear his face

And let him in my bed?'

So mulled the princess 'till a knock

Then made her jump in dread.

.

Still Greta quavered "Who is there?",

Her stare fixed at the door.

"It's me your servant, Ida, dear!

'Believe I was called for."

.

The princess sighed in her relief

Then let the maid come in

"Let's take these tight clothes quickly off!"

Said Ida with a grin.

.

All dainty strings were thus unlaced

To make her skirts fall down.

The princess stood in drawers and

The remnants of her gown.

.

Unbinding so her bodice then

Revealed a corset's blush.

Beneath which hid a light chemise

That gave her thighs a brush.

.

When Greta took her bloomers off,

She stepped behind a screen

Which let her change her underclothes

And still remain unseen.

.

Just in the meantime Ida went

To bring a bowl for wash.

Thus Greta cleansed completely veiled,

With silent sounds of splosh.

.

And when her toilet came to end

She dried herself in haste,

Then slipped in to her nightgown, which

Were on the screen preplaced.

.

She stepped out ready in her gown

And bid the maid good night.

Then after Ida left her room

She switched off every light.

.

With trembling knees approached the girl

Her bed in Moon's soft beam.

Avoiding any glance at shades

She lay her head to dream.

.

Indeed, submerging in her sleep

A vision flung her off,

To somewhere bright and gaily loud

And fraught with fancy coif.

.

As Greta walked between the crowd

All faces shined in smiles.

So many gingers, blondes and browns,

With never seen profiles.

.

Then while the scene was clearing up

She thus identified

Their ballroom from the papered walls.

But was she wearing white?

.

A snowy tulle skirt swayed around,

Her arms adorned in lace.

The beaded, satin bodice wrapped

Her shape with tight embrace.

.

All sudden played a walzer tune,

The people so formed pairs.

They danced with pleasure, but their twirls

Were like evading snares.

.

Thus next a man's hand grabbed her too,

And pulled her into pose.

His left hand holding Greta's right,

The right one kept her close.

.

He was a redhead just like Hans,

Although he smiled in glee.

A few steps danced then by a spin

An other could she see.

.

Was it her eyes deluding her?

This one looked just the same.

"Well hi dear sister!" grinned the man

And twirled her right away.

.

This time a bearded, older gent

Caught Greta while she spun.

Above his brown hair shined a crown.

'Two three, his turn was done.

.

The princess next has found herself

By such a shifty man.

A toothy smile he showed the girl.

His eyes not different than...

.

He was so forceful, squeezed her hand,

And strangely liked to steer.

Then leaned down for a whisper, close:

"Sincere condolence, dear..."

.

So after one last smirk he twirled

Her into other's hands,

Whose tall appearance seemed so much

Like all the former men's.

.

Poor trembling Greta went around

Just like a shared wine glass.

Thus spin by spin a new danced her

With princely courteous class.

.

Half dizzy, and her head in ache

She wondered if the dance

Would ever end. The sixth, and eighth

Eleventh?! God! No chance?

.

The last spin threw her fiercely in

To someone's brawny arms.

For once she saw a known, but feared

Face, full of sheer false-charms.

.

The redhead eerie fiend got her.

"Hello my dearest wife!"

His smile seemed earnest, but his eyes...

She could not draw more strife.

.

Prince Hans' gaze just froze on hers,

No dance-step went amiss.

But then he stopped to wink at her,

And lean down for a...


End file.
